


Fake it 'til you make it

by katnisskirk



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Oblivious Stiles, POV Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 10:30:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3893017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katnisskirk/pseuds/katnisskirk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Stiles enlists a hot stranger's help to convince his friends that he's a sex god.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fake it 'til you make it

**Author's Note:**

> So I mentioned other AUs I had in my drafts and I found this. 
> 
> Based on [the prompt](http://katniss-kirk.tumblr.com/post/113745133745/frankierospanties-what-about-a-hey-im-sorry-to): "what about a ‘hey i’m sorry to bother you but i’m trying to convince my friends i’m a sex god so can you please write a fake number on this napkin for me real quick’ au"
> 
> Yes, so here ya go. This one was written mainly in the middle of the night a few weeks ago and I tried to edit it as best as I could (it is also the middle of the night now).

“Scott, I know I’m basically a sex god, but it’s still rude to stare.” Stiles patted him on the back, trying to break him out of whatever Allison-induced daze he was in for the 20th time that day. It didn’t help that she was supposed to be meeting them there for pizza any minute.

Scott blinked. “Oh, sorry I—“

Jackson burst out laughing, the sound ringing in Stiles’ ears. “Ha! Have you ever even had sex?” 

“Are you serious? With _this_ face? Dozens of times. All the time.”

Jackson sneered, further inflaming Stiles’ crazy desire to prove him wrong. “So, what, you could get someone to have sex with you _right now_?”

“Jesus, Jackson. Not _right_ now. We’re about to have lunch. That’d be totally rude of me.”

“What a convenient excuse.”

“It’s not an excuse. I could go get someone’s—anyone’s—phone number right now, easily.”

“So do it.”

“Fine! I bet you I can get someone’s number before our food gets here.”

“Stiles, honey, please don’t do this.” Lydia heaved a sigh, her gaze shifting between Stiles and a very smug Jackson. Sure, Stiles was taking this way too far, but honest to god, he could probably convince someone to give him, like, a fake number or something. It’s not like Jackson would know.

“You heard what your douche-y fiancé just said. It’s a matter of dignity now. I have to do it!” Stiles squawked, throwing his hands in the air to underscore just how important this was. Before she could say anything else, he jumped up and started towards the dining area of the restaurant.

Scott grabbed at Stiles’ wrist, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “Jackson's just trying to rile you up, bro. Just ignore him.”

“Hey! Don’t doubt me!” Stiles whirled on him, managing to keep his voice steady out of sheer force of will. This was freaking ridiculous. Why was he going through with this? “I’m a sexual deity and I will not have you talk to me like that.”

“Come on, Stiles. You’re just going to embarrass yourself and then you’ll make us leave.” 

Stiles sighed so hard he could have blown out all the candles on his dad’s next birthday cake. “Ha ha, Isaac. I’m going to get a fucking phone number. I’ll be back in like, five minutes.”

Stiles proceeded to turn and strut, obnoxiously so, away from their corner table and into the middle of the dining area. He stopped, scanned the room for a likely assistant in this little game, and his eyes landed on the actual most beautiful man he had ever had the pleasure to gaze upon.

As an added bonus, he was within viewing distance of Jackson and company.

Stiles approached, wondering if the guy was really eating alone or if whoever he was with had just stepped away for a moment. He found it hard to believe that such a man was not already taken, if not married with equally as beautiful babies. 

Without giving himself a chance to panic and flee the scene, he walked right up to the table. “Uhm, hi. This is going to be weird, but just go with it. Okay?”

The guy stared at him for a few seconds, his eyebrows climbing impossibly high, then nodded. Simple as that. “Okay.”

“I need you to write a fake name and phone number on—“ Stiles looked around for something vaguely like paper and snatched up a napkin. “On this napkin.”

“Why?” He sounded somewhat suspicious. Which, honestly, was among the better reactions Stiles had anticipated. 

“I’m trying to convince my friends I’m a sex god. Not seriously, because I’m obviously not, but dude, _you_ are. Just in case you weren’t aware of that. Anyway, if you just do this, I’ll shut up and leave you to get back to your meal.”

He added his best, most charming grin, which was actually rather overzealous and a bit scary at first. He knew, because he had been told this many times by pretty much everyone he knew. 

The guy wasn’t quite smiling back, but their was definitely some amusement showing on his face. Probably because Stiles couldn’t seem to keep a single thought to himself. Whatever. He’d never been very good at pretending to be a normal person.

The guy took the pen Stiles offered to him and scribbled something down on the napkin, just like that.

“Here,” he said, handing back a neatly folded up napkin and the pen. Stiles opened it and read the name “Derek” followed by a convincing 10 digit phone number. Even the area code was legit.

“Thanks, man. I seriously appreciate it. Just watch what happens when I go back over there. Particularly the douche-y looking guy next to the redhead who’s clearly way to good for him. It’ll be worth it!”

“Derek’s” eyebrows gave away the true depth of his skepticism, but he seemed interested in what was about to go down. 

Stiles gave him one last grin, letting himself fantasize that this was real for a few seconds before he finally turned to start back to his table. This was gonna be good! Jackson would probably lay off on his constant teasing for at least a few weeks. 

“Wait!” Derek called after him and Stiles was so startled that he almost tripped over a chair leg while trying to twist back around.

“What’s your name?” 

Stunned, he didn’t answer right away, at a loss for words. “My name? Why does that matter?”

The man smirked, and god if that wasn’t the most attractive thing Stiles had witnessed in his entire life. “Well, if you’re going to call me, I need to know who you are.”

“It’s Stiles. But you don’t really want me to—“

“I wrote my phone number on a napkin and I gave it to. That means I want you to call me.”

“You gave me your phone number?” Stiles was certain he looked like a baby deer who had just crossed paths with its first car at night. "Your _actual_ phone number?"

“Yes,” Derek laughed lightly, giving Stiles a look that said he couldn’t quite believe how oblivious he was. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Well, _yes_ , but I didn’t actually think—you’re way too hot for—oh _my god_.” 

“Stiles, shut up.” Derek was smirking again. Stiles blushed harder than that horrifying time he tried asking Lydia out in the 8th grade. “I’ll be expecting your call.”

Oh god. Just what the hell had he gotten himself into?

————

 

As they were eating, Stiles caught sight of Derek walking towards the exit. He had the sudden, insane need to confirm that this guy was being completely real with him. Like, how awful would it be if this was all a huge joke being played on him? 

So he did the only thing he could think of: full-on shouted at Derek from across a public restaurant.

“Derek!”

Derek turned back immediately, tilting his head slightly in Stiles’ direction. The expression on his face said he knew exactly what Stiles was up to and Stiles felt his cheeks burn red. Great.

“Just making sure!” he called, waving Derek on his way. 

He turned his attention back to his friends, but avoided looking at anyone else at the table. 

“So, all that bravado earlier. You didn’t actually think you could get someone’s number?”

Jesus, he actually looked a little disappointed. Stiles burst out laughing, high on some kind of adrenaline rush from today’s activities. 

“Fake it ’til you make it, Jackson. Words to live by.” 

He lasted another ten agonizing minutes before he whipped out his phone and texted Derek, **So when are we having dinner? :)**


End file.
